Beau Idéal
by Dawn of Chaos
Summary: Roxas went through the motions of a boring, everyday, dull life. So when the chance comes that a legend is true and he's the one that can become apart of it, will he take it? Or will he continue on in a trivial life?


_ As for everyone else, I hope you girls/guys like it too. I have no idea where this idea, I just knew I wanted to dosomething with a slight Greek theme to get away from all my vampire splurging. So I came up with Nymphs. I know they normally don't wear...anything at all...but for the sake of the piece, I came up with some decently modern outfits. If I could draw half well, I'd do so with these. _

_Oh, and before I forget, Eta means 8 in Greek._

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**Beau Idéal**  
Winner Prize for virbriefs666 on deviantart

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The blonde's life couldn't get better, or so he didn't think. His social life was surprisingly well, considering how detached from the world he could become. Friends were always calling him and fluttering around him, as if they were moths to a flame. His parents were healthy and traveling the world, never settling down after him and his brother had moved out. Said brother has been successful, both working on the company they owned together. Yes, that company had prospered since the second it had been set up.

_What ever could he want more?_

…_.Freedom from a meddlesome life. To locate the thing that has been calling his mind away from his daily life...and into his dreams._

Pale lashes fluttered on his equally pale skin, cerulean eyes shimmering in the welcoming light of the morning sun, which came in through the gossamer curtains. Roxas pushed the blue and black, checkered sheets away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The soles of his bare feet touch down onto the slight chill of the hardwood floor. A soft groan slips from his light pink lips as the doorbell resounds throughout the mansion. From the silence, he can hear the butler's footsteps head for the door, giving him the queue to get dressed.

Striding over to his mahogany dresser, Roxas pulls out an average attire of navy jeans, a pressed black, button-up shirt, and a pair of black and silver converses. Rushed footfalls near his room, slamming against the stairs and hallway with no disregard or manners in the least. Roxas' bedroom door is thrown open, his blonde spikes swaying as arms are thrown around him. "H-Hey, get off!" The other backs away, hand going up to rub at the back of his head. The elder smiles brightly, azure eyes shining bright at his brother. "What's this all about Sora?"

Sora runs a hand through his chestnut hair, which spikes out at every which way. His appearance is though he'd just gotten up; wrinkled jeans, probably worn the day before, sneakers which don't match, and a thin, brown jacket thrown over his shoulders to keep the breeze away from his slightly tan skin. That is while the silver pendant of a crown rests against the bare skin of his chest. "Well...Mom called and told me to wish you well on your own travels." The brunet's brow furrows together. "You never told me you were leaving."

Roxas merely strides over to the small table beside his bed, picking up his watch and sliding it onto his slim wrist. "I didn't want you to know. I'm just getting away for a little bit."

"I...what do you need to get away from? What about the company? The Struggle Competition is next month and you're supposed to be there to hand over the trophy!"

"I'll be back in time. Don't worry so much Sora. Aren't you supposed to be the optimistic one of us?"

Sora huffs, "Not when my partner, my _brother_, doesn't tell me he's going to travel to some place. Where are you going anyway?"

The blonde walks over his to closet, throwing a duffel bag over his shoulder and picking up a suitcase. "If I told you, you'd follow me. Look, I'll take my laptop, so when I go into the town I'll email you and let you know when I'm headed home. Just don't spam me with calls and messages, okay?"

Sora plops down onto the bed, clearly not happy with the situation. "I still don't get why you're even going in the first place."

"I just need a vacation."

With that said, Roxas leaves his room, hurrying down the stairs and out the door. The butler and maids soon follow suit, turning off and locking up the house, Sora leaving the second after Roxas, the brunet disheveled at the surprise.

On the other hand, Roxas couldn't be more excited. He'd never admit it, but he envies his brother. Sora had the boyfriend, not afraid to admit his orientation to the world. Now, he isn't fond of the cocky boyfriend, but the man takes care of Sora and always seems to make the brunet's face shine with happiness.

The limo driver stops the ebony vehicle, the signal for Roxas to get out, the blonde had always been a stickler for opening his own door. As Roxas steps out, he looks up at the airport, heading in with little notice to himself. While he makes his way through the lines and bag checks, little children all the way to adults approached him, wanting an autograph or just to shake his hand. That's what happened when you won the Struggle competition at a young age and your Dad was the owner, giving it to you when he retired. Roxas would always be the star in the competitors eyes, for he would not Struggle against anyone after he retired to work for the company.

His stomach churns as the plane takes off into the sky, never being one for flying. Roxas relaxes back into the seat, head already being to throb as he peers out the window, gaze skimming over the white clouds. A sigh, almost completely silent, comes from him as he clutches a fold in his jeans, already feeling homesick.

The second the private jet lands, Roxas is out with bags in hand. A man stands at the gates looking straight at Roxas. The man's long, black hair, with silver streaks is pulled back into a low ponytail and an eyepatch covering his right eye. A large jagged scar stretches from his left cheek to just under his left golden eye. The dark blue jacket adorning his frame is pointed at the shoulders, the white shirt underneath un-tucked from the belted slacks. He gestures for Roxas to head over, which the blonde does in record time. The man grins down at him patting the shorter on the head, "Glad to see you made it in one piece, kiddo!"

A frown settles on Roxas' lips, "My name's Roxas and I'm twenty-two thank you."

"Sure, sure whatever. Now lets get you to your cabin. Just follow me."

Roxas does just that, following behind the older man, keeping silent as they walk through the small, barely populated airport. Yet, the people that are here look at him with suspicion. Outside of the airport is only the stretch for road with forest lining the other side. The pavement appears cracked here and there, the gray tint showing its wear and age. The man's long legs make it over to a small, black pickup truck, the sides speckled with what would appear to be purple paint. As Roxas climbs into the passenger side, he glances at the man sticking the key into the ignition. "You never told me your name."

"Xigbar, I run a gun shop back in town."

Conversation dies between them, the roar of the engine being the only sound, along with the rattle of the windows as they ride along the bumpy road. Roxas turns his attention out the window, not able to contain the smile at the beautiful, spring scenery. Trees of all kinds are littered around them, the airport now long gone. Wild flowers grow at the edges of the road, getting denser as he peers deeper into the forest. The remaining sunlight of the evening streams down in shades of orange, pinks, yellows, and purples.

A harsh chuckle draws the blonde's attention back to the man, his eyes narrowed. "What are you laughing at?" Xigbar merely shakes his head. "Well, are you going to tell me or not?"

"As if." Huffing, Roxas sulks into his seat, thinking that the locals would have been more friendly. He taps the suitcase at his feet with the tip of shoe, bored beyond reason. "What's your cabin number, kiddo?"

Still not liking the nickname, Roxas pulls out a folded paper from the duffel bag, glancing at it. "Number thirteen."

"Ah, you'll be a busy one then."

Scenery forgotten, Roxas eyes the man, suspicious to say the least. "Why do you say that? Is there something wrong with it?"

"Nah, nothing like that. All your plumbing and basic electrical works."

"So, what is it?"

A grin grows on Xigbar's countenance, "Just a silly, little legend is all." Roxas bites the inside of his cheek, not being one that exactly believes in legends. Seeing the others reluctance to ask, Xigbar can only laugh. "Fine, fine I'll tell ya." The vehicle pulls onto a dirt road, trees seeming to stretch on for miles.

"See, it's believed that bodies of water are portals, especially here for some reason. Every Spring creatures come from through the portal to steal away one of human kind. Now they go into different regions too, so I'm guessing in the end they get more than one."

"If they take us, how do we know about it?"

"One got out. Well, he always said he was released, that the one that took him cared so much, that he just let him go." The truck turns once more, stopping on the side of the road, a small cabin to the left. "He's dead now so don't get any funny ideas. This is your stop, stay safe kiddo."

Xigbar reaches into his pocket, handing him a scoffed, silver key. As Roxas steps out, he hangs the bag on his shoulder, key in one hand and the suitcase in the other. "You know when to pick me up right?"

Shaking his head, Xigbar gives a wave of the hand. "Yeah, yeah just get going I have stuff to do."

Roxas scowls at Xigbar as he shuts the door, walking around the front to start to the cabin. Behind him, the wheels of the truck spin, taking it backward down the road. Roxas shakes his head, shoes smashing down the grass which has grown a little too tall. The stones leading up to the wooden door can barely be seen, while the log cabin seems to be in pristine condition, not a stick out of place. Roxas sticks the key in, unlocking the door with ease. Xigbar's words are forgotten from his mind, buried underneath all his other thoughts that rise to the surface. The blonde's eyes scan the area, shutting the door with his foot.

The small, rectangular rug at his feet is a light brown, rimmed in a deep, rustic red, making the rug almost invisible to the dark, hardwood floors. Surprisingly enough, the house seems empty. No couch sits in the room to the left, only a brick fireplace, ashes still smudging against the metal insides. Roxas glances to the right, a doorless threshold leading to a kitchen. He sighs, well aware of the circumstances. Instead, he hauls his luggage down a hallway next to the living room. In there is a small bed, just big enough for himself, with thin, white sheets spread across it. An oak, bedside table is beside it, holding a lantern with signs of wear, the tip of the wick slightly burnt. On the far left sits a wardrobe, the wood in need of a good polishing, with the two doors wide open, not a lick of clothing hanging inside. Thick, forest green curtains hang in front of the window, casting the room in heavy shadows.

Roxas throws his duffel bag onto the bed, a light coat of dust floating up into the air. He pulls back the drapes, what's left of the sun's rays barely making it through the dirt coated glass. Sighing, the blonde turns to the lantern, walking over and rummaging through the only drawer of the small table. Amongst the crumpled papers, pencils, and paperclips, he finds a matchbox. Pulling one out, he drags the end along the side of the box, a flame igniting on the end. Roxas skillfully pulls the glass away, holding the match to the wick, which quickly catches fire. Pleased, the glass is secured back onto it and Roxas twists at the knob, making both the wick and flame grow in size. Roxas moves to sit down onto the bed, but freezes mid-action.

A clattering sound echos back to his ears, causing the adrenaline of fear to course through his veins. Reaching deep into his bag, Roxas produces a flashlight. With his fingers curled around the bottom of the lamp, Roxas walks to the door, stepping out into the hallway as the light from the flame flickers on the walls. Whispers traverse through the cabin, coming from the direction of the kitchen.

"I can't believe you're still such a klutz,"

"Oh and like you're any better?"

"Of course I am! I'm so much better than you."

"Is that why I'm the Ocean?"

The argument fell silent, a comeback not on the verge of things to do. Roxas' hand trembled as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, the night finally settling around outside. Raising the green flashlight, Roxas pushes at a switch and light explodes from the end. His plan to not turn on any lights worked, catching the two culprits in the act. They turn to Roxas, eyes wide at the intrusion.

The shorter, holding a broken plate in his hand, has flaxen hair molded into the form of a mullet, some of it falling down into his blue-green eyes. His clothing is the color of cobalt blue, which is loose fitting and flows around him when he moves, not to mention the strands of azure material that hangs from the rims of his clothing. The shirt falls just below his collar bones, going straight across his chest, leaving his shoulders bare and the sleeves going down to bellow out at his wrists. Pants, that resemble those of bell bottoms, form to his frame, not needing so much as a belt or buttons.

The other holds a smirk on his sharp countenance, slim, nimble fingers placed delicately on his hips. A pale green, almost blue, gossamer shirt sits on confident shoulders, the neck forming an open v all the way down to mid-chest, while the sleeves are tight around his arms. Although it doesn't matter, the lightly tanned and well muscled chest can still be seen through the material. That is, while similar pants as the blonde's, cling to his legs in a much tighter fashion. A hand reaches up and runs through crimson spikes that fall back around his shoulders.

Before Roxas can even utter a word, the blonde lets the rest of the place slip from his fingers and crash to the floor. The boy spins around, darting straight for the door. He fumbles with the knob, but once he gets a handle on it, the door is thrown open and he's out of sight. Gaping at the reaction, Roxas slowly turns his attention away from the ajar door and to the redhead, those emerald eyes sharply poised on Roxas as well. An unmanly "eep" sounds from Roxas as he clenches his eyes shut, the redhead launching at him, back slamming backward onto the floor.

The flashlight tumbles from his fingers, rolling across the floor. That is while he tries to keep the lamp from touching the ground, but comes to find that the redhead had grabbed at that as well, not wanting to catch the cabin on fire. Flames reflect in the lithe man's bright green eyes, hypnotizing the blonde to where he doesn't so much as struggle or flinch. The unusual man sets the lamp on the ground and rises to his feet, looking down at Roxas in concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

But the blonde's head is swimming, eyes seeing stars and spotting black at the same time. Roxas lolls his head to the side, mouth opening but no words coming out as he succumbs to the black out. Feeling bad that he was probably the cause of it, the man leans down, clicking off the flashlight and snuffing out the flame in the lamp. A soft sigh slips from pale lips, a chuckle soon following. Long arms wind around Roxas, lifting the blonde up to be cradled in those arms. Roxas' face rests against the man's chest as the man walks out the door the previous blonde had barreled through.

Outside, the grass squishes beneath the man's bare feet as he ventures further into the forest, the moon being his only light through the fully vegetated branches. Slowly getting to his destination, the redhead smiles at the glistening pond ahead of him. Beads of water spray up into the air as the blonde, that had been from earlier, splashes through the shallow rims of the pond, his outfit floating behind him as he twirls around at the appearance of the redhead. Gasping lightly, the blonde skips gracefully over to the trio out of the range of the flinging water.

The only woman out of the three is pristine in the rays of the moonlight. Although, a scowl sits on her lips as she sits on the rock by the pond. Her short golden hair is swept back, two bundles of strands arching up further to appear as a form of antenna or such. She sits in a long flowing dress that pools around her feet, some sort of strings coming up from it to tie around her neck. The thin dress on her beautifully curved frame is of lazuline, while a power blue shawl is draped over her shoulders. As the sun hits her at a certain angle, her porcelain skin and curves can be dully seen through the material, earning a smirk from the woman at those that would dare to look.

Behind her is a male of intimidating importance. A vest of the deepest green, which is left open, rests on broad shoulders, fluffed out pink hair falling down onto these shoulders. His blue eyes conceal a mischievous tint, their sly composure not giving away a single inner thought or emotion. Pants, that look like fresh leaves patched together, rest on his hips. As he leans against a tree, a rose of the reddest red is between his thumb and index finger, twirling back and forth.

Out of all of them, he appears the most modest and...plain. Petite frame with a small build, could appear to be feminine at a distance. His slate blue hair falls short at the nape of his neck while some falls over the right side of his face. Royal blue shorts trail over his legs, ending halfway toward the knee, but can be hardly seen because of the transparent ultramarine half-skirt that hangs from his hips as well, draping mostly over and down to his right knee. A matching shirt hangs loosely on his torso and falls too short of his waist, ending instead above his belly button. Yet to make up for the less elaborate attire, his soft features more than capture one's attention.

This last one is who the blonde runs too, collapsing down in front of the shorter before looking up at the redhead. "Sorry about running out of there Axel."

Axel shakes his head, eyes looking down to run over the blonde in his arms. "It's alright Demyx, I think I just found the one we're taking back this year." The woman giggles cruelly, drawing Axel's attention away from Roxas. "What is it _this_ time Larxene?"

"Why him? He's so small and...feminine, almost enough to rival that of Zexion." she states, waving her hand to gesture at the blunet curled up in front of Demyx.

Zexion glares up at her, but says nothing more. However, the man in the background pushes against the tree, walking over to Axel. He reaches out with his free hand. Axel immediately smacks away the hand before it can so much as ghost over the blonde's cheek. "Don't think of touching him either. He's _mine_."

Demyx giggles, the sound like water dribbling down over rocks and into a small pool of water. "He warned you not to touch his things anymore, Marluxia. Not even I'm that silly."

In Axel's arm, the blonde slowly begins to stir, a soft groan emitting from his throat. Bringing up a hand to rub over his face. The second his cerulean eyes lock onto Axel's countenance, he yelps and pushes at the others chest in an attempt to get space between them. Axel only tightens his hold as he sits down, letting the startled blonde occupy his lap. "W-Who are you people?"

Demyx crawls over to them, sitting on his knees as he smiles at Roxas. "Oh we're not people. We're called Nymphs!" he exclaims in a sing-song voice.

Roxas slowly begins to calm, worry and curiosity ebbing at him. "What's a...nymph?"

"Most of the world today call us sprites or fairies." Axel wraps his arms around Roxas, holding him close. "This guy is Demyx, an ocean nymph. Behind him is Zexion, a river nymph." Axel points back to Larxene and then to Marluxia. "She's a mountain nymph, Larxene, and that's Marluxia, a forest nymph."

"And...what do you want with me? Why were you in my cabin? Wait- you're nymphs?"

Axel slowly shakes his head, aware that Roxas' mind is reeling from the impact of the information. "I was looking for you, because I want you to come back to our dimension with me. It's Eta Day and we have to go back by midnight, so just hold on to me and we'll be there in no time."

"So you chose me why? Wait a second, Xigbar told me about you people! This is just a dream, you're a legend!" Roxas scrambles out of Axel's hold, jumping to his feet and putting distant between him and the nymphs. Panic swirls through him as he eyes each of the figures in their godly beauty and perfection.

A laugh echos from Marluxia, "Xigbar? Demyx, wasn't that the man you brought all those years ago?"

Demyx sulks slightly, mood falling at the mention of Xigbar's name. He takes a few steps back and falls onto his butt at Zexion's feet. Slightly concerned for the other, Zexion reaches out toward Demyx, knowing the pain of losing the one that would be linked with them forevermore. Only a nod is received to Marluxia's question and Roxas can only stare. That cleared up the puzzle that had been in his mind. No wonder Xigbar hadn't wanted to talk about it. So instead, he struck up another excuse, realizing the previous ones wouldn't work. "I-I can't go with you. I have a life!"

Axel climbs to his feet, arm extending to Roxas, fingers curved in the gesture for him to come back. "I could see how distraught the little blonde was and I felt bad that you had to suffer through this polluted world. It's so much simpler if you just come with me; no worries, no rushing through life, and you can have freedom and love." With every point, Axel had taken a step closer, finally to end up right in front of Roxas, his hands on Roxas' shoulders. "So what do you say?"

Roxas stares up into emerald orbs and bites at his lip. The thoughts bleed through his mind in an attempt to sort themselves out. Unbeknownst even to himself, Roxas spins around, darting back for the cabin. As he runs, not looking back, he clicks at the digital watch on his wrist, noting the time. Slamming the door shut behind him, Roxas sprints through the dark house all the way back to the room where he had deposited his suitcase. He fluently pulls out his laptop, clicking it open, and booting it up as he taps his foot impatiently. As the computer sits on the low-to-the-floor bed, Roxas crouches, fingers flying over the keys as he types message after message onto the program he had pulled up.

Finishing up, Roxas eyes the clock in the right hand corner of the screen, not realizing all the time that had passed. Clicking the top of the laptop back down, he pivots around and takes a deep breath. He'd never been one for spontaneity nor for flying off the handle and letting his heart control his actions. But, for once in his life, Roxas knew exactly what he needed, what he wished, what he truly believed he deserved.

Giddy at his decision, Roxas lets the soles of his shoes smack against the ground as he rushes out of the cabin, leaving all his belongings and his life behind. Moving only on instincts, the blonde quickly arrives at the pond he'd previously been at. Yet, instead of the quintet that he expected to be waiting in the spots they'd been in when he'd ran off, they're no where to be seen. The only thing that seems to stand out are the ripples in the water, as if something had just moved below it's surface.

Feeling anger and sadness bubbling up, Roxas digs his fingers into his flaxen spikes, wanting to pull each and every strand out for being so stupid as to thinking this was all real. Falling to his knees at the threshold of sand and water, Roxas feels his emotions about to flow over the rims of his barriers.

He needed what Axel had offered. He desired a permanent getaway. He wished for all that had been presented in the past hours. All he wanted to do know was break something, cry, scream, and let off all the fury and sorrow that he possibly could.

All that slips away the second arms link around him, lips grazing over his ear. "I was worried you weren't going to come back."

Completely surprised, Roxas turns around in the embrace, linking his arms up around Axel's neck in the best form of hug he could give. A grin occupies the redhead's lips as he leans his forehead against Roxas'. "I had to take care of a couple things."

Axel straightens to his feet, walking around Roxas and waist deep into the water. He lifts his hand up and Roxas gets up, stepping forward into the water, if not a little shyly. As he walks further into it and lacing his fingers with Axel's, he finds that in no way does he feel that the water has soaked his clothes. But as though he had just walked through air. "Ready to go then? I...don't think I'll let you leave."

"As long as I can come back with you every Spring." Roxas leans forward, head resting against Axel's chest. "I promised I would."

The redhead can't help but nod, giving into the younger's request. "Alright, hold your breath." Instead, Roxas jumps slightly, pressing his lips against Axel's as they fall back into the water, not so much as a splash resounding from the impact.


End file.
